


First Date

by mywingsareonwheels



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Author is disabled, Fluff, Other, Post-Canon, crowley is disabled, horrifying puns, i would apologise but I'm not going to, rated teen for swearing only, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywingsareonwheels/pseuds/mywingsareonwheels
Summary: “No it isn’t!” he exclaimed. “It’s not our first date at all. We’ve had hundreds!”





	First Date

“I just…” said Crowley, flushing, adding an extra swagger to his gait to offset the softer feelings he was indulging[1]. “It’s…” He looked at his companion, and then said gently, “It’s our first real date. Bit overwhelming, after all these millennia.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand, and smiled, but then stopped suddenly in the street, ignoring the dark looks from a choleric City businessman who had just bumped into him.

“No it isn’t!” he exclaimed. “It’s not our first date at all. We’ve had hundreds!”

Crowley turned back to him, startled and more than a little outraged. “Now hang on, angel, do you mean to say… do you mean to tell me that… What happened to going too fast for you?!”

“What?”

“What?”

“Crowley, my dear, what are you talking about?”

“Dates! You’re not seriously trying to tell me that every time we’ve had lunch or a drink or dinner together for the past few hundred… That we’ve…?”

“Well, not every time.”

“Oh.”

“Mostly early on, of course. Not so much after we first moved to Britain, naturally, though more often now with all the good Greek and Turkish restaurants in London.”

Crowley blinked at him. He did not often blink, but right now it seemed the only plausible reaction.

“The first dates we had together, I remember, were in Babylon, ooh, let me see. After the Flood, but not long after. Hammurabi’s reign, I think? At any rate, I quite definitely recall sitting with you on an embankment by the Euphrates, drinking some rather good beer, and eating spiced bread and a lovely bag of…”

“… dates,” interrupted Crowley.

There was a short pause.

“Angel, are you truly ignorant of all the modern uses of the word ‘date’ or did you just spend the last few minutes fucking with me?”

“Well, my dear” said Aziraphale, taking his arm. “You have expressed some enthusiasm for my tendency towards being ‘enough of a bastard to be worth knowing’. I wouldn’t want you to lose interest.”

“You clearly have a talent for it”, growled Crowley, but the corners of his mouth were twitching, and he drew Aziraphale in a little closer.

They walked on together through the darkening streets. A little Iranian restaurant in Bethnal Green was warm and welcoming.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] A mistake. His intensely mobile snake-hips were not suited to a humanoid body at the best of times, and pain was often the result. Especially when hs swung them as wildly as this. He would pay for it later, he knew.


End file.
